


mark time, march!

by smolricecookie



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Color Guard, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Family Bonding, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Meet-Cute, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, color guard captain iwaizumi, flute section oikawa, oikawa thinks he's the shit but he's as much of a dork as the rest of us, section bonding exercises (read: oikawa being a simp and getting laughed at)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29446551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolricecookie/pseuds/smolricecookie
Summary: Flute section leader Oikawa Tooru finally gets the rom-com he's always wanted when he meets the captain of the color guard, Iwaizumi Hajime.or: Oikawa Tooru's Guide to doing something as stupid and reckless as falling in love despite the fact that you've lived within your comfort zone for your entire lifewill be back apr 11 pst :)
Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 17
Kudos: 27





	1. da capo

**Author's Note:**

> i've actually been thinking about this for months, but recently i've been really missing my own band, so now i'm publishing a self indulgent iwaoi band/guard au lol
> 
> a big smoochie for my betas!  
> [emily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyseyebrow) writes some fluffy bungou stray dogs and dnf fics here on ao3!  
> and check out hamley's [twitter](https://twitter.com/_hjgordon) :))
> 
> also ik ik i get zero points for an unoriginal summary :'0

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _da capo_ : the head, the beginning

Eleven years. That’s how long he’d been playing the flute. He spent the first nine of those years taking private lessons, mastering solo repertoire. In junior high, he’d spent his time in the prefecture’s honors orchestra, an elite ensemble for only the best in the Miyagi Prefecture. Only two flute players were accepted, and every year since he was twelve he had claimed first chair. _A prodigy_ , the audience would whisper during his solo recitals, _a genius_ , to which he would internally roll his eyes at. He’s no prodigy, and he knows this full well.

Because Oikawa Tooru knows the only reason why he’s revered by the crowd is because of how hard he works. Oikawa Tooru practices at every waking hour, from sunrise to sunset, and then some. Oikawa Tooru practices until his arms ache and he can’t breathe and his fingers refuse to move. This is his pattern, his routine. No one notices how hard he pushes himself, with his carefully concealed eyebags and Hollywood smile. And when they do, they don’t stop him.

Until his first day of high school. It’s kind of funny, the way it starts. He’s in a practice room, playing a newly acquired orchestral piece, when someone abruptly throws open the door. Oikawa, in his shock, screeches out a note and drops his flute. At once, he’s kneeling on the ground, cooing at his instrument and petting it like a dog, whispering “I’m so sorry, baby” and “It’ll never happen again” against the head joint.

The newcomer looks down at him and Oikawa can finally get a good look at him: tall with a laid back posture and half-lidded eyes ( _Kinda cute_ , his brain reports).

“Are you usually this jumpy? Your flute won’t last if you keep dropping it like that,” he smirks as if it was _Oikawa’s_ fault, the bastard, and Oikawa vows to never even _think_ that he’s attractive ever again.

“May I remind you that you’re the one who _slammed the door open?_ ” he cries indignantly. The stranger raises a single thick eyebrow.

“‘Slammed the door open’? What d’you mean? I open the door just like everyone else,” he leans forward, peering at Oikawa’s music stand, where Chaminade’s _Concertino for Flute and Orchestra_ innocently sits, “MIYAGI PREFECTURE HONORS ORCHESTRA” stamped across the top. “Wait, first chair flute? For that fancy orchestra? Don’t tell me,” he looks up with a gleam in his eyes, “that you’re Oikawa Tooru, flute extraordinaire?”

Oikawa preens slightly under the title, “‘Flute extraordinaire’, huh?”

The guy huffs out a laugh and shakes his head, “I can’t believe this. Hiro’s gonna be so pissed.”

The way Oikawa’s mood changes is almost comical. “Wha- pissed?! Why? Where’s this ‘Hiro’ guy?” he looks around, as if ‘Hiro’ is suddenly going to appear in the cramped practice room. The stranger looks highly amused.

“Y’know, I never would’ve expected it, but you’re such a dork,” he snorts as he holds out a hand for Oikawa to shake. “I’m Matsukawa.” When Oikawa simply stares at it, Matsukawa rolls his eyes.

“I don’t have a _disease_ , c’mon,” he wiggles his fingers a little before grabbing Oikawa’s hand and shaking it roughly. “I swear, I have to do everything myself these days.”

Despite everything, Oikawa cracks a smile. He’s never met anyone quite like Matsukawa, and it’s a nice change of pace from the uptight, _boring_ musicians he’s had as company for eleven years. Then Matsukawa, still gripping Oikawa’s hand, starts running out of the music building. Oikawa tries to slip his hand out, but Matsukawa has an iron grip. “Where are we going?! Matsukawa?! Hey, this is kidnapping, you know!”

“I’m taking you to meet Hiro!” Matsukawa exclaims in an entirely too enthusiastic tone for the guy that apparently hates Oikawa. He laughs a little as they make it outside and start heading towards the gym. Hm. Maybe “Hiro” is on the volleyball team or something. “He’s going to curbstomp you, I can feel it!”

“He’s going to _wha-_ ”

“Hiro! Hey Hiro, take out your fucking earbuds you piece of shit!”

Leaning against the wall of the gym is a tall guy staring at his phone, who pulls down his hood and earbuds in one motion and _holy shit his hair is so pink_. Next to Oikawa, Matsukawa lets out a shocked noise.

“You finally re-dyed your hair!” he exclaims as they stop in front of “Hiro”, who grins when Matsukawa musses his hair. And then abruptly stops when he realises Matsukawa brought company. He narrows his eyes at Oikawa, before turning back to Matsukawa.

“Issei, this better not be who I think it is,” he points an accusatory finger at Oikawa. Matsukawa only shrugs.

“He’s actually not that bad. A little whiny, but hey, aren’t we all?”

“Whiny?! I’m not whiny!”

“Okay, he’s kind of that bad.”

“Rude! You’re so rude and for what?!”

Matsukawa throws up his hands in mock surrender. “You just make it so easy!” He claps Oikawa on the back before turning back to “Hiro”, who looks whole-heartedly unimpressed. “Hiro, Oikawa, although you already know him. Oikawa, Hanamaki Takahiro.” He mimes a handshake motion at Hanamaki and Oikawa, with a pointed look that says _get along or else_.

Oikawa holds his hand out. “Nice to meet you, Makki, I like your hair!” Hanamaki looks at his outstretched hand, then quickly slaps his own against Oikawa’s.

“Uh, Makki, that’s not how handshakes work.”

“I didn’t want to touch your hand in the first place, but Issei wants us to play nice.”

“Why do you hate me so much?!”

This makes Hanamaki cackle, “You know what, you’re right. He really does make it easy.”

Matsukawa grins and nods while Oikawa lets out an indignant _hmph!_ and sticks his tongue out. “I don’t have to stand here and listen to this slander!”

He makes to head back to the music building, before Matsukawa stops him. “Wait! Before you go, are you in the marching band? It’s the reason I went to your practice room in the first place.”

Oikawa folds his arms, and he’s suddenly reminded that he’s still holding his flute. “No, I’m not. I don’t have the time.”

Matsukawa rolls his eyes again. “You’ve literally been in that room for 4 hours. Why don’t you just split the time between marching band and your fancy orchestra shit? There’s no good reason for you to be in there for that long, even if you’re first chair.”

“I need to make sure I’m perfect! D’you think this all happens naturally?” At Hanamaki’s and Matsukawa’s nods, Oikawa huffs. “Well, it doesn’t. I need to be in the best shape possible to make sure I stay in the first chair.”

Hanamaki quirks an eyebrow. “Dude, do less.”

“What?”

“Look, I get that you’re Mr. Perfectionist, but you've gotta give yourself a break. You’re plenty good, you don’t have to work yourself until you _die_.”

“I’m not! I’m just making sure that… that…” Oikawa’s rebuttal dies in his throat. No one’s ever said _that_ before, because when someone catches him, they don’t ever stop him, even if a tiny part of him wishes they would. No, they _praise_ him and his dedication. But Hanamaki, this total _stranger_ , somehow deduced his entire existence within a few minutes of having met him. It’s… refreshing. Next to him, Matsukawa nudges him.

“Yeah, let go a little! And join the band, we need more flute players.”

Something is different that day. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s Matsukawa and Hanamaki, maybe it’s the feeling of finally being heard without saying anything, but something makes Oikawa smile and say, “Okay.”

Matsukawa whoops while Hanamaki extends a hand. “A proper handshake,” he says with a grin.

Things change after that. Sure, he still overworks himself to the bone and whines whenever he gets made fun of, but he’s finally… okay. Good. _Happy_. He’s the happiest he’s ever been when he eats lunch with Hanamaki and Matsukawa. (And then Hanamaki starts showing up less. Matsukawa rolls his eyes and tells Oikawa that it’s because he’s “in the gym, being a color guard dork”. “He’s in the color guard?” “Wh- yes, you idiot! Do you ever listen to anything we say?” “It’s never important enough for me to- ow! That hurts, Mattsun!”)

So he’s a little crazy about music, devoting his time to five hour field practices and orchestra rehearsals. _Sue me_ , he thinks smugly to himself as he enters the campus two years later. _It got me the section leader position, after all_. It’s the last thought he has before something hits him _hard_ on his head and he’s out like a light.

~

“-ey! Hey! Are you ok? I’m so sorry!” Blood pounds in his skull as the world slowly comes into focus and _woah there’s a face directly above his own wow_. So he does what any _logical_ person would do and screams. The face also screams and quickly distances itself from Oikawa. He sits up and oh. The face is attached to a body. He wasn’t expecting that. (A part of him thinks that he may have brain damage.) There’s a crowd of people surrounding him, all dressed in athletic leggings and carrying huge bottles of water.

“I’m so sorry!” the teen exclaims again. Oikawa gives him one of his best I’m-okay-and-everything-is-fine smiles, although it doesn’t look like it does much since the he still looks at Oikawa like he just died. He dusts himself off and stands up, and then immediately sits back down because _wow that’s a killer headache_. He closes his eyes and clutches his head as a hand rests on his shoulder.

“I think we should take him to the nurse,” a new voice rumbles _right into his ear oh god oh shit_. He blinks his eyes open and almost faints for the second time because the hottest person he’s ever seen is kneeling right next to him and staring right at him and oh god he already _knows_ his face is a blazing red. The guy looks concerned, and turns to call out over his shoulder, “He looks disoriented, we should definitely take him. Actually, I’ll take him, the rest of you should - _yes, I know you’re sorry, Yahaba_ \- you all should head to the gym since we’re already running late.”

There’s a lot of shuffling, a chorus of “Yes”s and “Fine”s, and one more “Sorry!” as the group around him turns away. Then he turns back to Oikawa. “Can you walk?”

Oikawa stutters out a “Uh- yeah, um- yes” as he rises once again. “I’m fine, really good in faAACT OH GOD NOT GOOD NOT GOOD!” he yelps as he tips forward. At any other time, he’d be more embarrassed, but right now the only thing that runs through his mind is _"holy shit he caught me and his hands are on my abs and he has really nice hands and arms and oh god oh god oh god”_. Thankfully, the stranger looks equally self-conscious and quickly rights Oikawa.

“Yeah, um, we’re on a hill,” he scratches his neck awkwardly. “You look kinda out of it, but, uh, I’ll help you. C’mon.”

Now that he knows he's equally as embarrassed, Oikawa gains enough confidence to not be as much of a stuttering mess. He allows himself to be led through the campus as they make idle small talk.

“So… what’s your name?”

“Oh, it’s Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi Hajime. What's yours?”

“Well, nice to meet you, Iwa-chan! I'm Oikawa Tooru.”

Iwaizumi mouths “Iwa-chan” incredulously as they turn the corner. “Um… okay. Are you… do you have brain damage or do you give everyone nicknames?” He looks stunned at his own words. “Uh, sorry, that was rude.”

Oikawa gives a loud laugh at that. “No, no, I give everyone nicknames. It gives them a personal flair, don’t you think?”

“I- no, not really, but okay.” Usually Oikawa doesn’t like bluntness, but Iwaizumi makes it work in an endearing way. At this point, they’re standing right outside the nurse’s office, so Iwaizumi turns to look at him. “I think you can get what you need here without my help, so I’m going to go. Sorry for causing you all this trouble.”

Then he turns away and runs back the way they came. Oikawa almost wants to call him back, prolong the moment, but then he remembers that Iwaizumi is late for whatever sport he plays and the headache really _does_ hurt like hell, so he simply enters the office without a word, sneakers squeaking quietly on the linoleum tiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cécile Chaminade wrote the _Concertino for Flute and Orchestra_ after finding out the man she loved, who played the first flute part in the orchestra, was marrying another woman. She composed this piece out of anger, incorporating difficult techniques for the flute part. Chaminade later crashed the wedding and gave the groom the concertino as a wedding gift. She received a death threat from him because it was so difficult.
> 
> [spotify](https://open.spotify.com/track/2HKtcodpfKNhROEfLMsqWJ?si=0fe6667a06af4e42) | [youtube (includes context)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQDTVDmbEpA)


	2. timbre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _timbre_ : the quality of a musical tone that distinguishes voices and instruments

**Tooru -3-** 7:14 am  
i left my flute at your place yesterday  
can you bring it w you

 **Mattsun** 7:18 am  
sure

 **Mattsun** 7:54 am  
bitch?? where are you  
we’re gonna start soon  
i look stupid carrying 2 instruments

 **Tooru -3-** 7:54 am  
the hottest guy ever just touched my abs and walked me to the nurse

 **Mattsun** 7:54 am  
…  
what  
you’re gonna have to give me a little more than that  
oh god you’re not having sex are you

 **Tooru -3-** 7:55 am  
what no?? i’m offended wtf i’m not that easy  
but basically i got knocked unconscious by some kid  
and then this super built guy walked w me to the nurse’s  
we had a whole conversation it was amazing

 **Mattsun** 7:56 am  
ok just know that i have so many more questions now  
but irihata wants us to split into sectionals like rn so get your ass over here

 **Tooru -3-** 7:56 am  
you didn’t even ask if i’m ok :’(  
mattsun  
are you there  
did you die  
did mizoguchi find out that you were the one who rear-ended his car last year

 **Tooru -3-** 8:01  
ok i’m walking to the stadium rn

 **Mattsun** 8:02 am  
shut up irihata is giving me The Look  
and no mizoguchi will never know lol  
hurry up you’re a section leader this year you have to be there for the first years

 **Tooru -3-** 8:02 am  
i’m literally almost there dw

Oikawa smooths his hair as he enters the stadium through the narrow archway, flattening himself against the wall as a trumpet player runs past him. As he emerges into the opening, he can vaguely make out Matsukawa with the other clarinet players on the opposite side of the field, holding his already-assembled instrument in one hand and Oikawa’s flute case in the other.

As he jogs to the other side, Matsukawa turns to grin at him. “Look who’s here, it’s Mr. Bigshot Section Leader.”

“You _do_ know that you’re a section leader, too, right?”

“Alright, well, _you’re_ the section leader who’s making your entire section wait for you. Y’know, you were at the nurse’s for a long time, it’s only a minute’s walk from here.”

“I can’t help it if the nurse loves me and wants me to stay longer! And you didn’t even let me tell you about Iwa-chan, either! I know my rights!”

Matsukawa snorts. “‘Your rights’ my ass. And I’m assuming ‘Iwa-chan’ is the hot guy? Here,” he hands Oikawa the flute case, “You need to go before Irihata notices.” He nods in their band director’s direction, who’s currently yelling at a saxophone player for spitting on the field.

“Thanks, Mattsun, let’s do a double-section lunch during the break!” Oikawa yells over his shoulder as he spins on his heel.

“Yep, sounds good… the flutes are the other way, peabrain. And get your clipboard from Mizoguchi first.”

“I knew that!”

“No you didn’t.”

“…No I didn’t.”

~

A short walk and one rather disgruntled sigh from Mizoguchi later, Oikawa stands in front of the flute section, his flute section, clipboard in hand. Together, they’d left the stadium and taken refuge from the August heat under a tree.

> **Section Lieutenant**  
>  Oikawa Tooru (Third Year)
> 
> **Section Quartermaster**  
>  Sakura Asami (Third Year)
> 
> **Third Year**  
>  Oikawa Tooru  
>  Shiino Aimi  
>  Sakura Asami
> 
> **Second Year**  
>  Chikudate Omi  
>  Kunikida Tsuneko  
>  Kozu Emon
> 
> **First Year**  
>  Nakajima Emiri  
>  Kindaichi Yuutarou

He smiles internally as he peers at the printed list. They might not be the biggest of bands, but they’re one of the closest knit groups to be found. He can’t imagine where he’d be without these people (probably wasting away in a practice room somewhere), and something warm and sappy wells up in his heart.

But now is not the time for sentimentality. His resolve hardens as he vows to do everything in his power to make sure the marching band is a safe place for the first years as it is for himself. Tucking the clipboard under his arm, he claps his hands twice, one of his few natural smiles gracing his face.

“Okay, let’s get started, shall we? I’m Oikawa Tooru, and I’m your section leader this year,” at this, he allows a little pride into his tone, “The actual marching starts tomorrow, so let’s use today to get to know each other! How about we all say our name, our year, and one thing about yourself. It can be how long you’ve been playing the flute, something you did over the summer, a gift you got for your birthday, anything!? Oh, and your pronouns, so I can write them down. And then you can pick someone to go next, okay?”

He stops, thinking for a moment. “And let’s all sit down, because I don’t feel like standing right now and I doubt you want to, either.” He laughs, before settling himself down into the soft grass. The rest of the section follows. “Alright, I’ll start! My name is Oikawa Tooru, I’m a third year and the section leader, and my pronouns are he/him. I’ve been playing the flute for eleven years!”

One of the other members snorts. “Really? That’s what you’re going with? There’s a lot of more interesting facts about yourself than _that_. Remember when you ran into a wall last year because you wanted to hide from Ushijima?”

Oikawa’s face colors immediately when the rest of the section erupts into laughs around him. Even the first years let out tentative chuckles at the mental image. He giggles nervously, running a hand through his hair. “Please, Sami, let’s not tell such outlandish stories! Why don’t you go next?”

They snort again. “What an unsubtle way to change the subject, and I have a video of you running headfirst into the wall, but okay. I’m Sakura Asami, I’m a third year and your quartermaster, I go by she/they, and I write in my spare time. And I nominate… you! What’s your name? The first year, no, the other first year, yes, you! I nominate you next!”

Things seem to run smoothly after that. They learn that Nakajima, one of the first years, is fluent in both Japanese and English from her time spent watching a British YouTuber (“Wow! Remind me to introduce you to Makki, he also has a British accent when he speaks English!”) and Kindaichi, the other first year, has been playing the flute since he was ten. Shiino Aimi is a Twitter artist who refuses to share her account name with anyone and Chikudate doesn’t like bugs. Kozu has seen all of the Studio Ghibli movies and they’ve gone to a lot of Broadway shows.

“Okay, wow, looks like I’m the last one! My name is Kunikida Tsuneko, I’m in my second year, and I knit a lot! I recently finished a multicolored frog hat. Oh, and my pronouns are she/they,” she smiles brightly as she finishes her introduction.

Oikawa mirrors her smile and claps his hands again. “And that’s everyone! Now, we still have a few hours until the lunch break, so let’s play some games!”

It’s the best kind of disaster. Chikudate struggles to catch Kindaichi’s lanky body during the trust fall and Sakura chases Kunikida for five minutes during duck, duck, goose (they somehow end up on the other side of the campus). Kozu acts like Oikawa as a dare (“Ladies, ladies, please! There’s enough of me for everybody~” with an exaggerated peace sign. “Wha- Mon, I’ve _never_ said that! The disrespect! And put your hand down, you look ridiculous.” “So do _you_ whenever _you_ do it, and yet that doesn’t stop you”) and Nakajima tentatively recites the first few scenes of the Bee Movie in perfect English to everyone’s applause. Oikawa tells Shiino about the “hottest guy _ever_ , no, you don’t understand, he’s literally a god amongst men, and- _stop laughing Sami don’t think I don’t see you there_ ” while she politely pretends to be interested.

By noon, they’re tired and aching, sore from laughing. Oikawa checks the time on his phone and starts when a message from Matsukawa pops up.

**Mattsun** 12:03 pm  
are you almost done  
break just started

 **Tooru -3-** 12:03 pm  
yeah we’re heading back rn

“Okay, everyone, let’s go back to the stadium. You can set your flutes down or put them away, and after lunch Irihata will announce the theme and we’ll get sheet music for our field show!” Everyone stands up and stretches, following Oikawa through the archway.

“Also, I know you may have friends in other sections, but today is the unofficial section bonding day so all eight of us are eating together! Oh, and the clarinet section is coming, too, but they’re cool, you’ll like them.” He turns around and gives his section a thumbs up. Sakura nudges Kindaichi a little and whispers, “See? An absolute dork,” which Oikawa pretends not to hear.

**Mattsun** 12:08 pm  
wait i forgot that you were late so you don’t know  
the board is finally letting the color guard be in our field show this year  
so they’re here too  
i invited them to lunch with us

 **Tooru -3-** 12:08 pm  
ofc you did you absolute simp

 **Mattsun** 12:09 pm  
shut up  
we’re all at Matsuya already  
your section is the only one missing  
y’all are slow lol we’re going to order without you

“Gah, why does he always pick Matsuya?! That’s on the other side of the plaza!” Oikawa whines as he reads Matsukawa’s texts. He pouts to himself before he looks up. “So, apparently we’re going to the Matsuya that’s in the plaza next to the school. It’s like, a ten minute walk from here, so we’re going to run because I’m hungry and you’re hungry and they’re already waiting!”

The declaration warrants a sigh from Chikudate. “How can you sound so charismatic about _running?_ ” But nonetheless, everyone begins to sprint after Oikawa, who’s already halfway to the crosswalk.

~

In a record time of four minutes, the flute section makes it to the restaurant. A few, like Oikawa, are slightly panting and sporting a proud smile, but most, like Kozu, are laying on the concrete, huffing out huge breaths. Matsukawa is the first to notice them from inside the Matsuya. He cheerfully waves at their tired forms and pats Hanamaki, who’s still sporting pink hair even years after their first meeting (he says it’s his brand), on the shoulder to get his attention. They both stand up and walk to the door, letting the exhausted group into the restaurant.

As Oikawa’s eyes adjust to the inside of the Matsuya, he can finally see the body of people sitting with about seven tables pushed together (god, the managers must hate them). Sure enough, the color guard had joined the clarinet section. Makki returns to his seat next to- oh, it’s the kid ( _Yahaba_ , his mind supplies) from earlier. Once he recognises Oikawa, he quickly stands up to bow. “Again, I’m so sorry!”

Oikawa thinks he’s been saying that a lot lately. He waves the apology off with a grin. “Please, I’m fine! I’m still here in one piece, aren’t I?”

Yahaba looks positively terrified at the implication of the comment, but Hanamaki snorts. “That’s why you don’t try to throw a triple while you’re distracted. And yeah, I can’t believe you knocked him out, but what’s even _more_ unbelievable is that you didn’t take a video for me! I would’ve paid good money to see that.”

Oikawa crosses his arms and turns around to face the door, “You’re literally so mean for no reason!”

He hears Hanamaki snort again, but he seems to deem the conversation over, and starts talking to Yahaba again. “Oh, hey, do you know when Iwaizumi will be out? He’s taking a long ass time in the bathroom.”

“Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t get the hand dryer to work, you know how they are sometimes,” someone who is decidedly not Yahaba responds. The speed at which Oikawa turns around should have given him whiplash. His face goes red as he comes face to face with the very person he had ranted about earlier.

“Iwa-chan?!”

**Mattsun** 12:16 pm  
who’s the fucking simp now bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as a thank you to some people who motivate me to continue writing, the OCs featured in this chapter are all based off real people!  
> thank you [ashley](https://twitter.com/petalbridges), [annie](https://twitter.com/lowkeyshinso), [ollie](https://twitter.com/chiizucakes), [boopkitty](https://twitter.com/kittensnkunimi), [mon](https://twitter.com/juzb_24), and [emily](https://twitter.com/emilyseyebrow) for your support!!

**Author's Note:**

> if you leave a comment i will cry happy tears and kiss you on the lips  
> constructive criticism is appreciated!
> 
> vibe with me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/smolricecookie) :0


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